


In Time with Miss Jane

by aurora_australis



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Family, Gen, MFMM Year of Quotes, References to Jane Austen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-20 04:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: Jane Ross and six novel expressions of love.





	In Time with Miss Jane

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the MFMM Year of Quotes -- February Challenge.
> 
> Based on the _Mansfield Park_ quote,  
>  "There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time."
> 
> ...and really Jane Austen in general.
> 
>  
> 
> Many thanks to Fire_Sign for the excellent beta read.

“Please, Inspector, pleeaaasssee.”

“Jane…”

“It’s just one night. Surely the constabulary can spare you for one night.”

“It’s not the time commitment that concerns me.”

“Well it can’t be the material. You _adore_ Shakespeare!”

“Which is why I’d rather not see him mangled by a bunch of youths.”

Jane looked insulted. Jack looked exasperated. Phryne looked amused. It was a familiar trio of expressions among the three of them.

Jane took a deep breath. Time for a new tactic. “Fine. You win. I’ll play Juliet AND deliver the prologue. It makes _no_ sense, but at least I already have it memorized. I just hope the audience isn’t confused. Just, let me know if you have any notes,” she said, addressing Phryne. She began her speech to the room at large, “‘Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new villany, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.’”

“It’s mutiny,” Jack grumbled from his spot at the mantel.

“Sorry?” Jane queried.

“New _mutiny_. Not villany.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure that’s close enough.”

“What?”

“Close enough, I said. For our purposes, surely.”

“Miss Ross, there is no _close enough_ when it comes to Shakespeare. Every word is perfectly placed to transport and transform the reader. He was a master of both iambic pentameter and blank verse, within which he told stories which exposed the very truth of the human experience. And, need I remind you, if he couldn’t find the right word, he _created his own_.”

“Still...close enough. For a bunch of youths anyway.”

Now it was Jack’s turn to look insulted. He ran his hand over his face.

“This is my fault. Dozens of trips to the theatre and two years into our acquaintance and _this_ is your attitude towards The Bard? I cannot believe I have failed you so spectacularly.”

“Well, I mean, if you think we could stand to learn a bit more about it, perhaps you could come speak to my group.”

“I might just do that. Clearly you need a reminder of the man’s genius.”

“Would next Thursday work for you?”

“I - what?”

“Could you come remind us next Thursday?”

“Well...yes, I suppose.”

“Excellent. As luck would have it, that’s the evening of the performance. So you can give your speech to us and then stay for the performance to deliver the prologue. And epilogue.”

“Wait, I -”

“Oh thank you, Inspector! You don’t know what this means to me!” She closed the distance between them, hugged a still somewhat stunned Jack, and bounced out of the room before he could fully object.

From her seat on the chaise, Phryne spoke for the first time since Jane began her entreaty.

“You know she just played you like a pianoforte, don’t you?”

“I am aware, yes.” Jack sounded resigned, but not unhappy.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Jack. I'm afraid she can be very persuasive.”

“Yes, I wonder where she learned that.”

“You don’t really mind, do you?”

Jack just smiled softly, his pleasure at making Jane happy as obvious to Phryne as if it were written on a neon sign. Her heart clenched, just a little, at the sight. If Henry Fisher had ever been that keen to make her happy.... No matter, these days she and Jane were both rather lucky, she thought.

“You know,” she continued, “I can be very persuasive as well, Inspector.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Yes. Though I’m afraid my hands aren’t particularly civil.”

“To which definition of civil are you referring, Miss Fisher? Common or well-mannered?”

“Both, of course.”

Which was the last thing Jane heard from her spot in the hall before Phryne shut the parlour doors.

 

\---------------------------------------

Dot was just finishing up in the kitchen, fitting the last of her biscuits in the tin, when she heard the front door open and then slam closed rather forcefully. She stopped in her task, quietly waiting to see which member of the family was taking their frustration out on Wardlow’s entryway today. She didn’t have to wait long. A moment later Jane entered the kitchen.

“Oh, hello Dot. I didn’t know you’d still be here.”

“Yes, well, I wanted to finish these biscuits before Mr. Butler returns tomorrow and I’m afraid the baking took me a little longer than usual.” She gestured to her somewhat pronounced bump and smiled. “It’s harder to reach most things these days, and I’ve still another two months to go! I can’t imagine how big I’ll be by the time the babe is ready to make her entrance.”

Jane sniffed in response, putting her bag down on the floor and sitting sullenly at the kitchen table. It was then that Dot realized Jane must have been crying; her eyes were red and she still had faint track marks on her cheeks. 

Easing herself into the chair across from Jane, she asked softly, “is everything alright, Jane? You seem sad.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it’s nothing. You’re a levelheaded girl, Jane. You don’t cry at nothing.”

“It’s nothing you can do anything about.”

“Perhaps. But we won’t know unless you tell me.”

Jane sniffed again, but uncrossed her arms and took a breathe, deciding she might as well talk about it, seeing as how not talking about it hadn’t been particularly helpful.

“My friend, Susan, is moving away. He father got some job near Adelaide - Mansfield Park if you can believe it - and she’s leaving tomorrow. I barely had time to say goodbye!”

“Oh I see. I’ve met Susan, yes?”

“Yes. She’s been over quite a lot. We study together. She’s smart. And funny. She makes me laugh. Made me laugh,” Jane corrected.

“Jane, dear, she’s not gone forever. She’s just moving away.”

“It’s practically the same thing! She’ll go, promise to stay in touch, send me a few letters, and then forget all about me.”

“You seem awfully sure of that.”

“It’s a pattern.”

With a start, Dot realized Susan was the third close friend Jane had mentioned moving in the last six months. The global depression was affecting families all over Melbourne, and many men had needed to leave to find work elsewhere, often taking their families with them.

“I’m sorry, Jane.”

Jane sniffed again. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry.”

They sat there for a minute in the quiet kitchen, as they had many times before, both before and after Dot had married and moved into her own home.

“If she were here now, what would you be doing?”

“Probably talking about our day. Maybe making cocoa.”

“What happened today?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, what happened last week?” Jane snorted involuntarily, and then looked mortified. “Sorry, Dot, it’s just, last week, there was an incident. With Susie. And Mrs. Norris. And a frog.”

“Oh I see. Well, why don’t you tell me about it?” 

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy funny stories too. And because when you miss someone, Jane, talking about them can make you feel closer to them. Even when someone goes away, and you’re very sad, you can still find joy in remembering what it is you’re missing.”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright, well, while you think about it, I’m going to make some cocoa.”

“Now? Don’t you have to get home to Hugh?”

“Hugh Collins is a grown man perfectly capable of making a sandwich for supper and putting himself to bed. And even if he weren’t, some things are more important. I’m just going to telephone the station so he knows I’ll be late. And when I get back, I’ll start the cocoa and you can tell me all about Miss Susan and the frog.”

With that, Dot turned and headed towards the hall telephone. In the kitchen, Jane smiled for the first time that day.

\---------------------------------------

Jane tapped her foot nervously. She found the rhythmic motion distracted her just enough that she was able to tamp down her first impulse, which was to simply pace the length of the parlour.

Dr. MacMillan stopped reading, looked up, and then looked pointedly at Jane’s foot.

Jane stopped tapping immediately. “I’m sorry. Am I distracting you?”

“No, I enjoy reading by metronome.”

“I’ll stop. I’ve stopped.”

“It’s fine, Jane. I was done anyway.”

“Oh. Alright. So...what do you think?”

“I think it’s fine.”

“Fine?”

“It’s adequate.”

“Adequate?”

“I feel like this room may have developed an echo.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just...I worked very hard on this application.”

“I’m sure you did. And, as I said, it’s adequate. Competent. Good, even. But it won’t get you the internship.”

“It won’t?”

“Jane, you’re going to be competing with the cream of the cream for this spot. You need to be better than good. You need to be exceptional. You need to be the only possible choice or you will not be the choice at all. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Jane responded, determined not to show her disappointment in front of the doctor.

“You’re better than this. You can DO better than this. Go back and rewrite it. Focus more on your lab work at school, don’t be modest about your awards - and yes I know you left some of them out, don’t argue the point - and flesh out the section on your internship goals to include MEASURABLE outcomes that benefit the hospital. I also want you to read up on Drs. Madison and Harper’s early work with the electronic pacemaker. You can use it in the section on innovation to subtly flatter them. Do all that or don’t bother asking me to read it again.”

“Yes, Doctor. Thank you.” Jane stood quickly, gathered her application, and exited the parlour, passing Phryne on her way. She mumbled a hello as she went, but stopped short in the hall when she heard Phryne’s next words to the doctor.

“Well that was a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t. If anything, I was too soft on her just now.”

“Yes I’ve noticed your feedback on her work of late has been increasingly critical. I believe Jane has noticed as well. Perhaps a little more delicacy is in order? She’s 16, Mac. She’s not one of your graduate students.”

“She a 16-year-old _girl_ , Phryne. A girl who, until she moved in with you was basically living on the street. She needs to be tougher than my graduate students. She’s competing for that spot with a great number of young men from the “right” families. And I promise you the committee reading her application would much rather give it to one of them. She has to make sure they can’t see any option **but** her.”

“Still…”

“No. I’m sorry, but those men will have every prejudice against her sex in general, and her in particular, and if she wants to succeed she can’t let her feelings or pride hold her back. She’s done very well so far, but she’s entering a new world now. And it’s not for the faint of heart.” Mac sighed and looked out the window as she ended her speech.

“I see. So tough love it is, eh Mac?”

“Oh Phryne...I want that girl to succeed so badly, you have no idea. And if I have to make her hate me to do it, I will.”

“You are...an incredible woman, Mac.”

“I damn well am, aren’t I?” At that, Mac turned back to her friend with a wry smile. “And this incredible woman wants a drink.”

Phryne laughed and moved towards the cart.

In the hall, Jane dried her eyes, steeled her resolve, and went upstairs to begin rewriting.

\---------------------------------------

Jane silently descended Wardlow’s steps in search of the excited voices she could hear all the way from her room.

“...so Peter brought as many back as he could fit in the crate and sold ‘em at a very reasonable rate to a few select members of the party.” Bert finished whatever story he was telling just as Jane entered the kitchen.

“Brought what back?” she asked.

Startled by her entrance and caught out as they were with the somewhat illicit merchandise, her three soft words made three grown men jump.

Jane looked at the table where a very large gun with a very large disc on top was sitting next to the stack of the biscuits she and Mr. Butler had made together that morning. She decided to leave the gun and take a cookie. Munching on her snack, she looked at the three men and repeated her question, “what did your friend bring back, Bert?”

Bert, to his credit, did seem to consider whether this was appropriate conversation for a teenager before ultimately coming to the conclusion that it absolutely was.

“It’s a Degtyaryov machine gun, direct from Russia.The weapon of choice for the people. It’s cheap, easy to manufacture, and doesn’t jam up in the mud. Cec and I acquired one recently and brought it by to show Mr. B.”

“Apparently, it’s called an 'Emma’,” chimed in Mr. Butler from where he was discreetly keeping an eye on the door. "And it's not loaded."

“Oi, it’s the Finns what call it the Emma,” Bert interrupted. “The Red Army calls it the 'Record Player' on account of the magazine. Much more sensible name. I mean just look at the bloody thing.”

“Whatever it’s called,” Cec continued, “I don’t think Miss Fisher would like you showing it to Jane.”

“Why not?” Jane asked.

“Because at your age you don’t need to be worrying yourself about weaponry,” Cec responded.

“Obviously. Guns are horrid. I'm just interested in the mechanics of that disc. A girl can never know too much. Bert, can you show me how it works?”

“Sure thing, love. This round bit on top's the magazine -”

“BERT!”

“What? Like she said, a girl can never know too much.”

“About _machine guns_?”

“She’s Miss Fisher’s daughter, ain’t she? I reckon it’ll be just as useful as anything else.”

“Gentleman,” interrupted Mr. Butler, “I’m all for education, but if I may remind you, Mrs. Collins is due back shortly and she will likely have an opinion on this tutorial as well.”

That changed the mood of the room dramatically.

Without another word, Cec took the gun from Bert, put it back in its case, and walked out the kitchen door towards the cab. A knock on the front door a moment later saw Mr. Butler leaving the kitchen as well.

Bert turned to look at a very disappointed Jane. “Dottie still has her church group on Wednesday afternoons, right?”

“Yes.”

“Right. Seems like a good time for you to start a study group.”

“For who?”

“You, me...and Emma.” With that, Bert winked and left out the kitchen door.

Wearing a delighted smile, Jane sat at the table chewing and plotting. She really didn't care for the gun, and would insist he left it elsewhere for their study sessions, but there was still plenty to learn. For example, she was sure she could teach him a thing or two about how to make truly excellent biscuits. 

\---------------------------------------

Jane knocked softly on the door, not wanting to startle her mother if she was feeling unwell. Anna’s bright smile upon seeing her daughter left Jane feeling happy, as it always did when she was having a good day.

Jane entered her mother’s room and sat next to her on the bed.

“Hello, Mother. How are you feeling?”

“Oh fine, Jane. I just returned from the library. Catherine - she’s one of the local school girls who comes by in the afternoons - has been reading aloud to the ladies. I like to sit in and listen when I’m not busy.”

“What is she reading?”

“ _The Mysteries of Udolpho_. Between us, I think it’s dreadful. But she seems to love it.”

Jane laughed. “Yes, I can’t say I’ve ever been a fan of gothic fiction myself. I much prefer Henry Lawson.”

“Me too,” her mother replied, smiling.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay long today. I have quite a lot of homework to do tonight. And I start my internship next week. But I did want to see you and say hello.”

“Of course. I’m so pleased you’re enjoying your studies.”

“I really am! When I was younger, I never thought I would love school, but I do. Every time I go into the library I expect to be used to it, but every time the size of it just leaves me in awe.”

“I did.”

“You did what?”

“I thought you would love school. I knew you would, really. I… I wish I had been able to give you more when you were younger. It’s my greatest regret, you know, that I couldn’t give you the good start in life that you deserved. You were such a bright young girl. I knew you’d be something special. And now look. You are.”

“You’re wrong.” Anna opened her mouth to argue, but Jane cut her off. “You gave me a wonderful start. All those nights, reading, sharing your stories with me, opening up all those worlds to me. My education is important to me, Mother, but books are my greatest joy. And you gave that to me.”

Anna fought back sudden tears and pulled Jane into a fierce hug, releasing her slowly and smoothing down her hair as she did.

Jane absolutely loved the good days.

“Oh did I tell you, my girl, I’m heading up the Party Planning Committee this spring?”

“No, you didn’t. That’s wonderful, Mother! I hope I can attend this one.”

“You’d better, I only took the job for the perks.”

“Perks?”

“Yes, the head of the Committee plans the menu. And we’re having apple cake.”

Jane beamed and Anna hugged her again. 

Perks indeed.

\---------------------------------------

Jane looked between the two women, then down at the letter. As it had every time she looked at the piece of paper, the letterhead caught her eye - ‘The Rachel Forster Hospital for Women and Children.’ She raised her head again and looked between Phryne and Aunt Prudence, waiting for one of them to speak. When they did not, she decided to break the silence herself.

“So...what do you think?”

As always, Phryne got a good head start.

“If you’re asking me what I think you should do, the answer is, you should do what _you_ want to do. If you’re asking me whether or not I think you _can_ do it, the answer is, absolutely.”

To her credit, Prudence caught up quickly.

“If you’re asking _me_ what I think you should do, the answer is, you should stay in Melbourne.”

“Aunt P…”

“No, Phryne, it’s too much change, too quickly. If she wants to continue her education, she should live at home and attend the University of Melbourne.”

“But it’s a wonderful opportunity!”

“It’s an outrage is what it is! Living at a Women’s Hospital? _Bartering_ for her board by working there while she’s at school! It’s unseemly.”

“She’s hardly bartering, Aunt P. This is a very prestigious spot. They only take on two female students a year, and Jane is one of them. It’s a wonderful training program. You should be proud, not put out.”

“Well of course I’m proud of the girl. I’m always proud of her. I just happen to think she can do better than their pitiful offer.”

“Aunt Prudence,” Jane began, “it really is a very exciting opportunity.”

“In Sydney! Why are we not discussing that aspect of this ridiculous plan? Jane, living in Sydney, with no chaperone. Unseemly!”

Phryne took up the cause again. “Aunt P, be sensible.”

“I am sensible! I’m _always_ sensible! Prudence means ‘sense’, for heaven's sake!”

“Yes, well, the unfortunate names in our family aside -”

“How can you be so calm? Sydney is on the other side of the country!”

“Because I know, just as you do, that our Jane has a good head and an even better heart. She’ll be fine. Also, Sydney is really not that far.”

“It might as well be London for all we’ll see her.”

Jane coughed, pointedly. “I can hear you, you know. You could talk to me.”

“Yes of course.” Prudence took her hand and looked her in the eye. “Jane. Don’t go.”

Jane sighed, and looked at Phryne. Phryne looked at Prudence. Prudence looked right back.

“Aunt P -”

“She’s just a child!”

“She 17! And during this very wild time in a young woman’s life, she wants to spend her time healing the sick and studying all day. I can’t think of a more respectable pastime. I assure you, at her age my experience playing doctor was quite different.”

“Phryne! Oh, I wish you wouldn’t take _every_ opportunity offered to shock me. I’m going to see what’s taking Mrs. Grey so long with the tea.” WIth that she left the room, in search of the beverage and decorum currently missing from her parlour. 

“Oh dear, now I’ve gone and offended her delicate sensibilities.”

The two women shared a smile at that. They both knew Prudence didn’t have a delicate bone in her body. But once alone, Phryne’s tone softened.

“You know, you don’t have to go.”

“But you just said -”

“I know, and I meant it. But if you’re worried -”

“Are you worried?”

“Of course. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a mother will _always_ worry about her daughter. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go. I’m just saying it’s your choice. It’s not a foregone conclusion. What do you want to do?”

Jane bit her bottom lip and took a breath. “I want to go.” She rushed on, “I’ll miss you terribly, of course, and I’ll come home every opportunity I get, but...but I don’t think this is an opportunity I want to let pass me by.”

“Then you’ll go.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Jane, you were meant to do wonderful things and this will help you do them. How could I be upset about that?”

“And...and you’ll look after my mother while I’m away, won’t you? She won’t say so, but I think she’ll need the company.”

“Of course I will, my darling.”

“Thank you. For everything. I think I could thank you every minute of every day for the rest of my life and not fully express how grateful I am for all you’ve done for me.”

Phryne smiled and fought back tears as she held her ward’s hand. “I assure you, it continues to be my honor and privilege.” Taking a deep breath she decided to shift the conversation to safer waters. “Aunt P will come around too, you know. It’s just a lot for her right now. I think after Arthur she would like to keep a tighter rein on all of us. But she’ll see this is best for you, trust me.” As if conjured by Phryne’s words, Prudence returned to the parlour a moment later.

“Phryne there’s a telephone call for you.”

“Here?”

“Well I certainly didn’t answer the phone at Wardlow. Yes, here. I assume you told that Inspector of yours where you’d be. He’s asking for you.”

“Oh yes, of course. I’ll be right back.” Phryne left the room a moment too late to miss her aunt’s pointed remark of, “unseemly,” as she departed. Which, of course, just made her all the more happy to take the call.

Prudence sat down in a chair and gestured for Jane to sit beside her.

“Jane, are you sure you want to go?”

“I am. It’s a program that specializes in training female doctors. I don’t think I’m too likely to be accepted to anything else as perfect. I have to go.”

Prudence deflated slightly at that, all too used to the determination she saw in Jane’s eye.

“Very well. I can see your mind if made up. You’re as stubborn as Phryne, my girl.”

“Thank you,” Jane replied with a smile.

“Oh, you two are as bad as the other! Alright, give me a list of supplies you’ll need and I’ll see that you’re fully outfitted with whatever young people bucking authority need these days.”

“Aunt Prudence you don’t need to -”

“Of course I don’t need to. I want to. You deserve the very best, child. And if you’re going to spread your wings, you’re going to spread them in style.”

Jane knew better than to argue. Stubbornness ran in the family after all.

“Can you think of anything else you might need, Jane?”

“Just,” she said, gesturing to where Phryne had departed moments before, “you’ll look after my mother while I’m away, won’t you? She won’t say so, but I think she’ll appreciate the company.”

“Of course I will, dear girl. Phryne will be in good hands while you’re away.” Prudence smiled. “But, if I might make a request of my own, do hurry home.”

“As soon as I’m able, Aunt Prudence. I promise to come back to you all.”

And, in time, she did.

**Author's Note:**

> The institution I’ve placed Mrs. Ross in is based on an actual feminist asylum which opened in California in the 1920s. The ladies (never called patients) threw fancy parties, attended picnics in the community, went out to dinner as a group, and had children come read to them. There is no evidence one existed in Melbourne at the time, but if it did I’m sure Phryne would have found it and funded it. :-)
> 
> The Rachel Forster Hospital for Women and Children served as a training hospital for female doctors and treated women and children.
> 
> It’s probably obvious, but the quoted prologue is from _Romeo and Juliet_. And if anyone would appreciate a bawdy joke about hands - or any other appendage - it would be Shakespeare. ;-)
> 
> Also, the “novel” nod in each of the six sections started out as a fun writing challenge for myself, but if any Jane Austen fans out there caught it, I hope you enjoyed my little easter egg as well. :-)


End file.
